Chapter 39
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
Sage
Over the next few days, Freddie gives me a whole heap of shit when he catches Alexei trying to sneak out of my room. And then subsequently off the property. In fact, the next five times Alexei is here, he gets caught coming out of my room at odd hours of the night.
To me, it is a luxury. For every time we finish the good part, the even better part comes.
He sits with me, strokes my hair until I fall asleep and he never runs.
The dreamless deep sleep that I slip into when he's next to me is a blessing in more ways than one.
Knowing that each time I close my eyes he will still be here in the morning.
The way Alexei wants me never makes me feel insecure, only powerful.
Now, only a day has passed since he last left my bed. Yet doing it again is the only thing on my mind. Though seeking him out is my newest obsession, so too is the spiral of shame that accompanies it.
A barb stings into my heart every time I think about how wrong it is to let him touch me. Every time I seek him out hoping he will, and every time we are only caught by someone who is willing to look the other way.
Whether we like it or not, the things we do together are a betrayal. Not only to our promises to our respective families, but to our promise to each other. The promise made in black roses that I would be the one to kill Alexei Rushkoff or him me.
And no, he can't kill me with his dick, but he's sure giving it a try.
My focus should be on Chet. If I let myself get distracted from Chet then I will lose more than I already have. That's a betrayal to Nicholas's memory, and to this family, in itself.
I see the other complication in the flesh now.
Dad is standing outside on the balcony talking to Anton, for the first time in a while looking like they're not shouting. Getting to Chet was going to be hard enough without Dad deciding that we don't need to work with the Rushkoffs to do so.
Not only do I have to figure out how I'm going to kill Chet, I have to figure out how to get my father to let the Rushkoffs help me do it. It's all up to me. Alexei seems to think I have the brain power to mastermind a way to achieve both of those things.
I open the balcony door and slide out to join them, smiling awkwardly when they both look at me like I'm interrupting their business again.
"Sage," Dad says, avoiding my eye contact. He's been quieter since I showed him the necklace. Not quiet in the way that he's coming around and is going to listen. It's a way I can't decipher because I've never seen it from him before.
"I suppose you've come out here to talk me into working with the Rushkoffs, too," Dad sighs, neglecting his cane as he leans casually up against the balcony rail.
"I wasn't going to, but I can give it a crack if you like," I say.
He shakes his head, ignoring me and turning back to my uncle. "I'm healing now, you know. Soon it won't be your decision, Anton."
"Which is why I'm trying to convince you to do the right thing," Anton replies, looking solemn with his hands in his pockets.
Dad scoffs. "It wasn't the right thing to do when I was in charge."
Anton gives Dad a look and even though their voices remain even, there's no less hostility between them than when they were shouting.
"I know. I know what you'll say," Dad says. "That things have changed. But none of you can tell me exactly how or why."
I look to Anton for the answer just as Dad does, but he doesn't flinch, saying nothing and not making a move to.
He knows I'm the reason things have changed.
Things have changed around me and the choices I made.
They have all adapted to the chaos I created with every ridiculous action that I've taken.
I'm the only one that can explain that to Dad. I both begrudge them and am grateful to them for the unspoken notion that I have to be the one to tell him that.
"You drove us right into the ground, little brother," Dad says, choking up as he shifts uncomfortably to rest his hands against the banister and look out onto the pool.
Anton's nostrils flare. "I drove us into the ground?
" He takes a menacing step forward before thinking better of it and stopping to laugh unkindly.
"That was all you, brother. For never letting go of this grudge against Chet in the first place and for locking her up in this house and expecting her to like it. "
Dad stands up straight, huffing as he turns to my uncle, unable to resist the urge to yell. "He killed your wife!"
"And yet you are the one who can't let it go."
"I can't let him get away with what he did."
"Which is what exactly?" I say, scoffing as I let my arms fall aimlessly to my sides. "Look at all these scars on my back-"
"Sage, please-" Dad starts. But I cut him off.
"I wear the consequences! It's etched into my skin. The least you can do is tell me why."
He shakes his head, looking exhausted and no more willing to cooperate.
"Why does he hate us enough to do this to me? Why does he-"
"Okay, I get it," Dad says, taking a deep breath before his gaze drops to where I've subconsciously wrapped my hand around Isabelle's necklace.
"You're still wearing that thing." Dad purses his lips as he spares a glance for the locket.
A glance that he can only maintain for a second, like for him, staring at it is akin to staring at the sun.
"Chet promised Isabelle he'd never forget," I say.
"It says so in here. Along with a picture of-" I let the words rip to a stop, too afraid to speak them into the world.
It's a topic I've never had much luck with.
Dad effectively erased every memory of my mother from his life.
And mine by association. That's why I'm so surprised when he answers me.
"Mom,” Dad finishes. "I know."
I hesitate, knowing that I've gotten no meaningful answer about her from my father before. "Then what-"
Dad holds up a hand to stop me. I unwillingly halt, waiting on him to speak through the pain that I see gripping him as his hand closes tightly around his cane.
"Chet… He - he loved her, too," Dad says, huffing a breath through his nose. "Hell, he loved her first." He shakes his head, lost in the memory. "But she loved me more."
I look over at Uncle Anton for confirmation that this is truth, because lies live on his face until they consume him. But right now, there are none.
My head swims at the possibilities of what this all means. But I know I've been living the consequences of this for my whole life and it's all for a lost love. A year ago, this would've never made sense. But there's a madness in grief. One that steals every echo of the person you were before.
This is why death promises are made. This much, I know.
"Why not just tell me that before?"
"Would you have understood? Before now?" Anton answers for him, kind eyes settled on me. He knows he's right. There was a time I wanted to do far more than just tear strips of skin off Alexei's back.
"So this is all because he loved Mom?" I ask.
"Yes," Dad rushes to say. Anton's eyes widen minutely, before Dad gives him a hard look. "It ended badly, and he came after you as retribution towards me. End of story. That's all I'll ever say. Now take that fucking necklace off."
I do as he says and take it off, letting it fall into my hand.
"Seriously?" I ask, noting where Dad has extended his palm to me and I roll my eyes as I drop the necklace into his hand.
"I've been ready and willing to take that fucker down for over twenty years," Dad says, eyes hard. "You'll never convince me I need some Rushkoffs help to do it."
"Sage," Anton prompts.
Uh oh. My turn.
It's all of my secrets and all of my lies that are twisted up in the truth of why we need the Rushkoffs to take Chet down. Victor. Nicholas. Alexei. Telling Dad feels like a surer way to lose him forever than death would ever be.
Realistically, where could I start? There's no good way to open a conversation like this. It's not like I missed the bus or spilled soda on the expensive rug. I've done too many awful things in a row to easily explain any of them.
While Anton looks at me with a demand, Dad looks at me in confusion. We all want something that cannot be given. Anton wants me to come clean. Dad wants me to return to the person I used to be. I want to avoid all responsibility for everything I've done.
I drop my head. "I... don't know what you want me to say."
Dad's harsh stare dissects the look between Anton and myself, where my uncle looks at me with barely contained anger and disappointment.
Dad shakes his head at us, like we've turned on him and he can't trust us anymore.
The look guts me inside. He's meant to be the lynch pin of this family, but now he looks at us like we're strangers.
"This isn't going to be your decision for long. I'm getting better every day," Dad says, like his healing is meant to be a threat to us, as he shuffles back inside.
Anton's face turns gutted as he watches him go. He turns that same devastated look on me. "I'm so disappointed in you, Sage."
"What was I supposed to say?" I gasp. "I could tell him I killed Victor.
But then he'd wonder if Alexei knew that.
And then why Alexei was so calm about it if he did know.
And then we'd have to tell him about the death promise.
And then Dad would kill Alexei. And then Chet would kill us.
So tell me, what was I supposed to say?! "
"Anything other than nothing," Anton says, shaking his head as he gently brushes past me. When he leaves, he can't even look at me. For that, I can't blame him. For over a year now, I've barely been able to look at myself.
My fingertips rest on my bedroom door as I contemplate turning around and running to tell Dad everything. It would be easy to change my mind. Today will always be better than telling them tomorrow.
Lying is too much like second nature now though. It's well practiced. Instinct. I am far too good at it.